


Mandolin Purr

by voleuse



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-08
Updated: 2005-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>But the less you noticed it, the more it got into your brain and your blood.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mandolin Purr

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for _The Silver Chair_, including the **implied dubious consent** therein.  
> Summary and excerpt taken from _The Silver Chair_ by C.S. Lewis.

  


_   
Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him.  
And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off  
in half an hour an enchantment which  
has made one a slave for ten years.   
_   


 

She delights in Rilian's youth.

He tastes like sun, and blood, and life.

Everything she cannot touch, she touches through him.

She cannot ascertain night from day, aside from the patterns of his sleeping and waking.

On those, she keeps close enough watch, and endeavors to disturb them when other matters do not press.

From his lips spill devotion, adoration.

She takes them in her mouth, and grows strong.

*

 

_Rilian follows her into the dark, stumbling over the uneven ground. _

_He is bleeding. The pain is a cool and throbbing ache. He cannot focus on it._

_He cannot focus on anything._

_He asks her where she leads him._

_She laughs, and turns. Kisses him softly on the mouth, and the pain disappears completely._

_"Will you come with me?" she asks him._

_And he says to her, "Yes."_

_He will follow her anywhere._

*

 

At times, she thinks Rilian might not be worth the effort of her repeated enchantments.

His will is stubborn. His thoughts are unruly. His mind is unusually resistant.

It is satisfying, however, to watch his eyes go out of focus. To see his face soften with ardor.

When he rises and approaches her, she sets her mandolin down.

The smoke from the fireplace twines with and around them.

And she remembers, then, that he does have his uses, after all.

*

 

_The lady speaks an invitation. Reclines on her couch, and the lines of her body are clear through the emerald silk of her gown. _

_Rilian averts his eyes, heat flushing his cheeks._

_"My lady," he replies. "I do not understand."_

_She leans on an elbow, and her smile unsettles him._

_"Rilian," she says. "Come here."_

_As if by compulsion, he obeys. Kneels before her._

_She reaches out, trails a hand down the side of his face. The touch is light enough, but he shivers._

_She leans forward, presses her lips to his._

_Rilian has kissed, and been kissed, before._

_But when her tongue snakes out, slips against his lips, he gasps._

_Her other hand clasps the back of his neck, drags him up, onto the couch._

_Her body is soft and writhing under his, and he forgets that an honorable man should protest._

*

 

The time is close at hand. There are things aboveground to which she must attend.

Rilian frowns, all longing, and brings her palm to his lips.

"For how long must we be parted?"

She smiles, because it is the question he always asks before she departs.

"As long as necessary, my sweet prince," she responds. "Can you hold until I return?"

He touches her wrist to his lips, the faintest flicker of wet, and his gaze is full of promises.

"I shall," he tells her. "But do not take long. I would wither without you."

She allows herself to laugh, and kiss him, without contemplating the truth.

She has, after all, long left truth behind.


End file.
